


Lancelot Rises

by syndicatewritings



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Running alongside the events of the Golden Circle and beyond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-04 23:25:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12178545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syndicatewritings/pseuds/syndicatewritings
Summary: Kingsman has been destroyed in a sudden attack but a certain Agent Lancelot isn't quite ready to give up the fight just yet...





	1. Twelve Hours Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the ruins of the Kingsman mansion, the police find a remarkable discovery...

_Within a second, Roxy’s heart began to race and a lurch came up in her stomach. There was no doubt that a missile had struck Eggsy’s house, viewable via the glasses his friend Brandon had been wearing seconds prior to impact. The question of how such an attack was possible rested on Roxy’s mind for barely a second, because now that same imposing, impending orange flash in the sky was visible from her window too..._

_“Fuck!” was all she had time to say as she tossed her laptop aside and dived off her bed. In the few seconds she had, Roxy flung open the door to her closet and threw herself into it, getting the door closed behind her just as the missile hit. The last thing she heard was the almighty roar and the world crumbling around her, then darkness._

**_Twelve hours later_ **

“Fancy the pub later?” DCI Sullivan asked, directing it at his colleague. 

DI Lumsden checked her watch and shrugged. “Sure, might as well, it’s been a boring fucking day overseeing this clean up.”

The two detectives looked to the large crater of rubble and dirt before them, the remains of what had once been a stately home. They’d been told prior to arriving at the scene that a gas leak had happened, large enough to destroy the entire house and bring down the surrounding ground into a crater. Both Sullivan and Lumsden doubted that version of events but the briefing had come directly from the Assistant Chief Constable, a man not to be questioned. Lumsden in particular had noticed several similar stories on the news and social media that morning, including a tailor shop in London suddenly exploding and several houses being destroyed across the country. Each had been attributed to gas leaks, arson or accidental fires but the pattern was definitely there, even if some seemingly didn’t want it to be seen. 

Several forensic experts and police constables were down in the crater, surveying the wreckage to see if there were any survivors, or more likely, corpses. The house was known to the local constabulary as being the property of a businessman who was in the tailoring business, another coincidence to the London explosion that Lumsden had noticed but tried to suppress. The hope was to find survivors but all of the police personnel present knew it was unlikely, they were simply there to category the dead.

“Can’t believe we’ve been stuck on fucking clean up duty again,” Sullivan complained. He took a cigarette out from his pocket before stopping in his tracks. “Fuck sake, can’t even light up because of the gas leak!” The cigarette was shoved back in his pocket roughly. 

“You should give up, those things could kill you,” Lumsden remarked, smirking. 

“Yeah yeah, you make that shit joke every time,” Sullivan replied, scowling. 

They returned their gazes to the crater, content to stand on the sidelines whilst their juniors did the tougher work. Lumsden checked her watch again, the hands ticking painfully slowly. Their shift wasn’t due to finish for another few hours and she just knew she was going to be stranded there for the remainder of it. 

“I’ve found something!” came a voice from the pit, one of the junior constables, McKendrick, who’d been on the force for only a few weeks.

“What is it?” shouted Sullivan. He rolled his eyes at Lumsden as PC McKendrick had a reputation for being overexcitable, craving the thrills you’d see on a TV cop show over the mundane realities of normal police work. 

“It’s like a capsule sir, or a shelter! You need to see this, sir!”

Sullivan sighed and said to Lumsden,  “Have a look on the binoculars will you, Mary.” She complied, looking through them at where McKendrick was standing. He was by what appeared to be an odd mixture of wood and sleek metal that had been buried under brick, wood and stone until McKendrick had cleared it. 

“I hate to say this but he might be on to something odd, Reg. It looks off.”

“Give me those.” Sullivan took the binoculars and looked through them, sighing at the find. “Fuck he’s right,” came the resigned sigh. 

“Alright, stay there, we’ll come look!” Lumsden called out. 

“If I fall over on the debris in the pit and his find turns out to be a fucking fridge, I’m gonna have his balls for fucking garters,” Sullivan complained as they walked to the gangplank down into the pit. Traversing the debris proved to be difficult and it took the detectives a few minutes to get over to where PC McKendrick was standing. 

“Let’s have it then,” Sullivan said, the irritation evident in his voice. By then McKendrick had cleared a few more planks away to reveal a long, metal box. There was a keypad in the centre of the front panel and a door handle at the side. 

“It’s a safe,” Sullivan commented, rolling his eyes. “There’s not going to be any body in it is there? Probably just some rich person’s fucking jewels or something.” He regarded McKendrick with withering gaze, entirely confident he was right. He even slammed his fist against the door a few times to prove it was thick metal.

A few seconds went by and nothing. The keypad then beeped, causing all three police officers to snap their heads back to look at it. The door of the box opened, revealing a young woman inside. 

“Holy fucking shit...” Sullivan exclaimed, expression one of total shock. Lumsden and McKendrick’s were the same but it was Lumsden who sprung into action first. 

“Help get her out of there!” she snapped at the two men, moving forward to help the girl out. 

“Got rather a headache coming on,” Roxy said, having just awoken from unconsciousness only to find herself light headed and woozy. She had passed out again before the police officers could lift her from the box. 

_**To be continued...** _


	2. An Uncertain Wakeup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awaking to bruising and unanswered questions, Lancelot begins her way out of the messy situation.

_**One year earlier** _

_“This will be your quarters, Lancelot,” Merlin announced as they entered the room, standing aside then to give Roxy a better view.  
_

_She smiled as she surveyed the room, immediately noting how it was just a bit bigger than both her room at home and those she’d had at university. Material considerations didn’t matter that much to Roxy but she couldn’t help but appreciate them nonetheless._

_“There’s also a few extra additions that you wouldn’t find in any normal bedroom,” Merlin added, the traces of a wry smirk on the Scot’s lips as he said it._

_He tapped away at his clipboard and suddenly the bed flipped up and disappeared inside the wall. “In case any assassins should attempt to breach the windows, you might’ve seen such a trick in one of the James Bond films. We don’t complain but Fleming shall we say ‘lifted’ some of his ideas from us.”  
_

_Roxy arched an eyebrow and a smile at that, wondering if the comment about Ian Fleming was genuine or simply a joke by Merlin. She considered asking but decided against it._

_Merlin walked over to the windows and tapped them. “Bulletproof and bombproof from short range attacks, not impregnable but will give you enough time to prepare yourself should anybody attack the house.” Roxy nodded in understanding._

_Merlin then moved to the far wall, divided between a bookshelf on the lower part and a blank wall on the top. Merlin pressed a hidden button and the top part split open to reveal a weapons cache. Two pistols, a sub machine gun, an umbrella, the lighter grenades and a spare pair of glasses made up the contingent. Percival had shown her a similar arrangement at the tailor shop, it being standard issue weaponry for any Kingsman agent._

_“As you can see, you won’t have to go far for something to defend yourself in the event of an attack, Lancelot,” Merlin said, leaving the wall behind as he moved to the other side of the room.  
_

_“And finally, this may seem like a cupboard but in reality...” the tech master began, tapping his clipboard to make the wooden door slide open, revealing what looked to be a metal coffin inside.  
_

_“A panic room?” Roxy asked, her brow furrowing a little as she stepped forward and looked inside. It was undoubtedly snug, the coffin precedent continuing to run through her mind. She saw a breathing mask attached near the top of the box and a series of electronic screens on the other.  
_

_“Kind of, Lancelot, it’s both panic room and stasis chamber, designed to hold a Kingsman agent for up to twenty four hours in the event of an attack they are unable to repel, so they can wait for reinforcements. The metal casing is bulletproof and resistant to both long and short range bomb attacks, there’s an oxygen filtration system that works for up to twenty four hours and we’ve even added some rations if ever an agent needs to make a prolonged stay in here. Oh, but if you ever end up in here you’d better make sure to keep the joints moving, circulation and all that, can’t have an agent stay in here preparing to fight only to get thrombosis, can we Lancelot?”_

_Roxy let out a laugh at that one as she stepped out of the chamber. “I’ll keep that in mind, Merlin..”_

**_The present day_ **

PC Ian McKendrick couldn’t help but turn and look at the unconscious young woman through the window into her hospital room, a smile appearing on his lips every time he did. Some of the nurses had remarked upon how chipper he seemed and McKendrick couldn’t deny it. He’d saved a life. He was the most junior officer in the station, having only been in the job for a few weeks and already he’d made a name for himself as a hero. He’d heard rumours a commendation was on its way for him from the Chief Constable but honours mattered less to McKendrick than the good feeling of having saved someone from danger. He’d become a policeman to help people rather than progress to a rank for glory or money. 

In the few hours or so since the discovery, he’d been on duty guarding her as a host of police officers, doctors and nurses paraded in and out of her room. He’d positioned himself right in front of the door, putting on as much of an imposing stance as possible. McKendrick wasn’t to know the nurses had giggled behind his back about his attempts to look tough, he was too consumed with feeling proud and committed. 

Inside the room, Roxy opened her eyes, her vision blurry and her head throbbing still. She let out a slight pained moan and brought her hand to the back of her head where she could feel a lump. As she did so, Roxy also felt the stiffness in her joints and bones, as well as spying a nasty looking bruise on her wrist. She took a few seconds to just lay there, letting her vision clear up. She wriggled her limbs in the bed to get blood circulation going properly again, her mind briefly flicking back to Merlin’s comment about it on her first day as Lancelot. 

As Roxy did so, horrid thoughts entered her mind of what had happened. A missile had struck Eggsy’s house and then the mansion. The impending orange flash in the sky, heading towards her window suddenly came back to her, again giving Roxy a lurch in her stomach. Her breathing became a little panicked as she considered the possibilities of what had happened. Had it just been an attack on her and Eggsy or was it a wider assault on Kingsman? The reason for her first thought was Charlie, the former applicant alongside herself and Eggsy for the Lancelot position, his assault on Eggsy having been just the night before the attack. Revenge against them for his training failures seemed possible but the nature of the assault implied the organisation he was working for had wanted to attack Kingsman on a wider scale. She needed to find out more.

Roxy turned her head to the side table, wanting to find her glasses and watch. She cursed as she found they were not there, nor anywhere else in sight as she looked around the room. Through the glass window facing out into the corridor, she could see a police constable standing on duty outside. She knew neither of her wrists were chained to the bed so she wasn’t under arrest, likely being under police guard instead until she could be questioned about the bombing. Roxy also thought that they’d have questions about the panic chamber and she wasn’t prepared to stick around to let them waste time asking her about the incident when she had to find out the fates of her fellow agents. 

Slowly and gently, Roxy sat up and once again wriggled her limbs to make sure circulation was fully back. She swiftly removed the IV drips and catheter, remembering her field medical training and got out of the bed slowly. She took a few steps up and down the room, regaining her senses and balance whilst at the same time looking at the policeman through the window in the door. The man still had his back to the door and the partially covering blinds meant she hadn’t been spotted yet by those walking past the room. Roxy stretched a little more until she was content her limbs were working well. Her head was still throbbing but she could see well and didn’t think it’d impair her judgment. 

Roxy didn’t want to hurt a policeman, not at a time when attention towards Kingsman from the normal authorities would undoubtedly be high. She would if necessary but she’d exhaust other possibilities first. The other side of the room had a window facing out onto the lush rural surroundings. Roxy went over and looked out, smiling as she saw it was only a one story drop to the ground. The look also confirmed to her that she was in Granborough Hospital, the nearest hospital to the mansion, a former country home that had been converted into a medical centre to serve the nearby villages. 

Her next priority was clothes, given all she was wearing then was a hospital gown with a slit up the back. Escape would be difficult enough without the added issue of having anybody see her bare arse as she ran off. Her clothes were not in sight in the room but a cupboard looked promising. She opened it slowly, not wanting any creak to alert the policeman outside. Roxy struck lucky as she found a pair of green scrubs and hospital slippers, not ideal but sufficient as a temporary measure. Roxy removed the gown, leaving her briefly naked as she dressed, hoping the policeman wouldn’t choose then to enter given she’d prefer not to fight half dressed or not at all. 

Roxy gave one final look at the back of the policeman’s head through the door window as she gingerly opened the outer window to freedom. Roxy lifted herself up and perched on the window ledge, looking down to see two ambulance crew sharing a cigarette by the main entrance a few metres away. She also looked to her sides, seeing more window ledges to her left and a drainpipe to her right. Roxy chose the drainpipe, reaching out with her right hand and grabbing onto it. She swung herself round, gripping the pipe as well with her left hand. She climbed down, keeping her gaze on the floor and the two paramedics intermittently. 

Once safely on the ground, positioned in helpfully placed shrubbery, she waited for the paramedics to leave whilst she planned her exit. An ambulance stood as the only vehicle in sight and Roxy debated whether she should hijack it or not. It was a convenient exit but also an instantly recognisable vehicle. Caution won out over convenience and she looked for other routes out. 

The paramedics went back inside and Roxy took the opportunity to stand up and walk out of the bushes onto the gravel and stone pathway. The crunching sound immediately under her feet had been why she’d stayed in cover until they’d gone, knowing she’d have been heard and thus seen immediately. Roxy crept round the side of the building, finding no vehicles by the side entrance either but fortunately nobody else either. Traversing to the rear of the building gave her what she wanted, a car park.

Meanwhile, back on the second floor of the hospital, DCI Sullivan and DI Lumsden had arrived to interview their mystery guest. The discovery had meant their shift had been extended, depriving them both of the pub which had put them in a grouchier mood than usual. 

“Look out, it’s wonder boy,” Sullivan grumbled as PC McKendrick came into view, a smile evident on the young policeman’s face.

“Oh leave him alone, Reg, you must’ve been like that when you got your first big break,” Lumsden replied.

“I was happy but not that fucking happy,” he murmured as they reached McKendrick.

“Sir, ma’am,” McKendrick greeted, still smiling. 

Before either Sullivan or Lumsden could reply, a doctor suddenly appeared in their group, having spotted the police officers arriving and making a beeline over to them. The doctor was a woman, middle aged and wearing a disdainful expression.

“Are you here to interview her, detectives?” the doctor asked.

“We are, is she conscious?” Lumsden asked. 

“I think it’s too soon to rouse her,” the doctor replied. Sullivan rolled his eyes at this and interjected.

“We’ve got an investigation going on, we need to talk to her, unless she’s in critical condition which we were told by the nurse we spoke to before we arrived that she isn’t then we need to interview her.”

Lumsden couldn’t help smirking as she thought about how similar Sullivan and the doctor were in sourness. 

“Alright, Inspector, you win,” the doctor replied but deliberately demoting Sullivan a rank in her address to him. She full well knew he was a Chief Inspector but wanted to have a sly pop at him for his rudeness. Sullivan grumbled but let it pass. 

McKendrick stepped aside to allow the three access to the room and they all went inside. At the sight of the empty bed and the opened window, nobody looked more stunned than McKendrick. All thoughts of a commendation from the Chief Constable disappeared as quickly as the colour draining from his face. Subsequent thoughts of how she could’ve gone under his nose were rapidly replaced by feelings of fear as he saw DCI Sullivan’s piercing, angry glare. 

It would take them twenty minutes to work out that a car, registered to one of the doctors, was missing from the car park. By then, Roxy Morton was long gone...

_**To be continued** _


	3. Doomsday Protocol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the Doomsday Protocol, Roxy makes her way back to Kingsman to try and see if any of her colleagues have survived.

_**Sorry for the slight lateness of this update! I had a busy few days so only got around to writing this today. Hope you enjoy!** _

_**___** _

_**One year earlier** _

_“Now that you have reached this far in the process, we must assess your ability to survive in the most challenging of circumstances but without the resources of Kingsman behind you. There might be a time when Kingsman itself has been attacked and all you have is your own wits, ingenuity and skills to ensure your safety.”  
_

_As ever, Merlin’s briefings were both to the point and packed with hyperbole intended to scare the trainees. Now that the applicants had been whittled down to the last six, such tactics were growing less effective upon them after traversing the numerous tough challenges thus far, but Roxy felt Merlin could still pull surprises from his sleeve._

_“Doomsday Planning is what we call this next challenge. You’ll be asked to come up with a plan to achieve a certain objective in the event that you are on your own without support from Kingsman, whether you’re in a firefight in a faraway jungle or a riot in an urban slum, you need to be prepared for escape at all times.”  
_

_“Not difficult for Eggy then given he comes from an urban slum,” Charlie snidely murmured under his breath, just loud enough for Eggsy to hear.  
_

_“Like you’d last two seconds where I’m from you fucking posh twat,’ Eggsy murmured back, glaring at Charlie.  
_

_Charlie snorted in amusement at Eggsy’s reaction, just as Merlin raised his eyebrow and asked “Is there anything the matter, Charlie, Eggsy?” Roxy could tell that the spymaster full well knew what it would be about but he was choosing to play the seemingly out of the loop teacher to force both to comment about it._

_“Nothing, sir,” Charlie replied, in that tone of smug upper class superiority Roxy had so come to despise. Eggsy followed suit with a similar comment about it being nothing, though again Roxy could tell he was forcing himself to not add a sarcastic comment about Charlie.  
_

_“Good, in which case, you have one hour to come up with your plans. Dismissed.”  
_

_The candidates turned to face six men in suits, Kingsman agents to be precise, all holding their arms out at them. In unison, the six fired and each candidate was struck in the neck by a dart. The sedative had worked on them before they’d even hit the floor._

As she stalked her way through the village of Highmoore, Roxy couldn’t help but reminisce about the time in training they’d had to act as if they were alone without Kingsman. She’d been dumped in a forest in the Scottish highlands with nothing but the clothes on her back and a note informing her she had to get back to Kingsman within 24 hours or she would be out of contention. She smirked as she remembered she’d made it back after just 12. The warm feeling at succeeding in such a tough task last barely few seconds as Roxy snapped back into reality. This time it was real, Kingsman was gone and there was nobody left to welcome her home with congratulations. 

Her stomach lurched again as her thoughts turned back to Eggsy. The question of whether he was dead or not had plagued Roxy’s mind since she’d woken up. On the one hand, she knew Eggsy hadn’t been at his home when it had been destroyed by the missile but then again if someone had the power to destroy Kingsman, their resources surely could extend to locating Eggsy in Sweden or elsewhere to kill him too. She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm herself, letting the panicked, throbbing sensation within her settle. She had to cling on to hope that Eggsy had survived and was alive, the alternative being too terrible to contemplate. 

It had been hours since she’d escaped the hospital. In that time she had ditched the stolen car and procured another, driving out of the area to then switch that car with a third before driving to another village. Night had now fallen, giving Roxy the necessary darkness she required to operate. Having left the car parked in a quiet backstreet, she was now eyeing a change of clothes. She saw a rather nice looking boutique shop on the village high street and looked both ways to ensure no witnesses before dashing across the road. Expecting the front door to be locked, she quickly moved into the side alley next to the shop and made a run at the wall, jumping up at it. Roxy grabbed the top of the wall and lifted herself up, using her legs to run up the wall at the same time so she could get over. Once over the wall, Roxy dropped down on the other side in a combat crouch, standing then to survey her surroundings.

She was standing in a small yard behind the shop where numerous boxes were stacked. Roxy walked over to the rear door and tested it, finding it locked. She pulled out a hairclip that she’d taken from one of her stolen cars, placing it into the lock and jimmying with it until the lock came undone, thus allowing her in without fuss. Gingerly, she took a few steps in and looked up at the corners by the ceiling. No alarm sounded and she couldn’t see any boxes in the corners to indicate any. She thus began looking around, inspecting the back rooms and coming across what she desired, the stockroom. Roxy began searching the boxes, pulling out items of clothing and assessing them. She elected for a pair of jeans, a blouse, a jumper and a blazer as well as pair of boots. 

She quickly stripped out of the medical scrubs, smiling as she did so. With the physical exertions of her escape, the garments had become sweat laden and so it felt good to change into new clothes. Once she was dressed, Roxy exited the back room and crept into the front of the shop. As she suspected, the shop used a basic till and was easy to open. Roxy felt a pang of guilt at stealing money from an innocent shop but she also knew she needed cash if she was to make it far. As she took the money, she made a mental note to anonymously pay the shop back once she’d gotten some normality back. With her task complete, Roxy quietly left the shop by the rear again and returned to her car, all the while keeping watch for any suspicious movements. 

_“12 hours, 8 minutes, Roxy, I’m impressed,” said Lancelot, the traces of a smile on his lips. “You’re the first candidate back,”  
_

_“Took an hour or two to get my bearings but I eventually worked out a plan. Hitchhiked, got to a train station, fare dodged my way down the country until I got to London and then worked my way to the shop.” As Roxy explained, she felt a feeling of pride she hadn’t felt since being praised in school.  
_

_“Very good, Roxy..” Merlin began just as the door to the shop burst open and an out of breath Eggsy dashed in._

_Eggsy stopped just in front of them both. “I got here second!” he declared just as Charlie appeared behind him in the doorway, cursing as he admitted defeat. Roxy couldn’t resist a laugh as she realised they’d raced each other down the street to try and get to the shop first._

_“Last time I checked, Eggsy and Charlie, this is Kingsman, not a schoolyard. Give me 50 press ups if you’re so keen to physically exert yourselves.” Again, Roxy couldn’t help but reflect on the school analogy.  
_

Roxy frowned, a tear coming to her eye as she looked at the ruins of the shop before her. The once impeccably presented building was now nothing but charred wood and brick, sodden by the rainfall. She’d driven through the night to get there, arriving in the morning as commuters flowed through the London streets. She pretended to blend in with the gawping tourists and barely interested office workers who passed the building as she tried to process her churning emotions. Eventually, after having to steel herself with deep breathes, she knew there was now only one place left to go. 

She drove to the wine and spirits shop, roughly a ten minute drive from the tailors. Upon becoming Lancelot, Roxy had been informed that if the Doomsday Protocol were ever to be in effect, the shop represented a safe house. As she arrived, she was glad to see it was still standing and for the first time since the attack, she felt hope flowing through her. 

“I’m from the Kingsman tailor shop, I believe you might have something for me,” Roxy said to the shop assistant after she’d entered. She felt some relief at seeing him so formally dressed, a little detail reminding her of the Kingsman she knew. The man, without waiting, led her down to the cellars, into a lavishly decorated conference room. 

“Has anybody else been here from Kingsman?” Roxy asked the assistant. 

“Yes, ma’am. Two men came a day or two ago.”

Barely able to contain a smile, as she hoped, she asked “What did they look like?”

“One was middle aged, bald and had a Scottish accent. The other was about your age, glasses, brown hair, wearing a suit.” 

A grin broke out onto her features at the news Merlin and Eggsy were alive. The assistant quirked a brow in curious bemusement. 

“Do you know where they went?”

“I’m afraid I don’t, ma’am.”

“So why am I in this room?”

“This is where I brought the other two, I don’t know what they were looking for but they were rather... inebriated when they left.”

“Right... nothing at all other than that?”

“No, ma’am, I’m sorry.”

Before Roxy could say anything more, the assistant moved to the door and left, as if knowing his formal role as unknowing gatekeeper was done. Roxy looked around the room and searched it with a ferocious want for the next hour, unable to find anything that might help her. As she surrendered, she hit the wall in a sudden surge of anger. Merlin and Eggsy were alive but she had no idea how to find them or what to do next. 


	4. Taste of Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Roxy is stuck for how to find Eggsy and Merlin, she finds solace in a familiar place.

**_Hey! I know it’s been a month since I’ve updated but I started a new job recently and have been v. busy with that so I’ve only had the time now to write the next chapter! I hope you all stay with me!_ **

**_Also many thanks for the comments and kudos so far!_ **

__

Roxy had only the moonlight to guide her as she climbed the thick branches of the oak tree, with the leaves of the tree obscuring most of it. It didn’t matter to her, she could manage the climb without difficulty, given it was situated in the garden of her family home, meaning she’d climbed it many times before.

As she climbed, Roxy reflected on how the tree that had been her first real challenge in life. As a little girl, the youngest of four siblings, she’d had to endure being last for everything that mattered. The last to be taught how to ride a bike, the last to go to school, the last to be allowed to go with Dad on his quadbike, the list of things Roxy had been left till last to do because she was then too young ran on. The fact that her elder three siblings were also all boys had made things more difficult, meaning she’d either been excluded from the rough and tumble games or brutalised too much. 

This feeling of exclusion and inferiority had made her climb the tree at just seven years old, getting halfway up before becoming stuck. Her father had had to rescue her, admonishing her as he got them both down but she had been simply happy to have done something her brothers had failed yet to do. The exclusion and feeling of inferiority had also driven Roxy as she grew up, making her want to compete and reach everything first. Whilst she had endured the frustration as a child, that drive and self discipline would later push her into Oxford, Sandhurst and then finally Kingsman. 

Roxy lifted herself up onto one of the highest branches and settled herself on it by straddling the branch to keep her balance. With her climb complete, she gazed down at the house and then looked at her watch. 6:58pm. Two minutes to go. She waited with baited breath, an odd sense of nervous excitement running through her as her heart raced and a smile broke out onto her lips. Sure enough, as the hour struck 7, light suddenly illuminated the darkened room behind the French doors that led out to the rear patio. Even though she could only see a smidgen of the room from the high angle she was at, it brought a wide smile to her face. 

The thick, rich red carpet, the deep brown Chesterfield leather furniture, the old drinks cabinet by the doors, it was a living room that looked like it belonged in the pages of an Agatha Christie but it was one Roxy enjoyed regardless. The tall, greying figure of her father appeared as he took his seat in the armchair by the French windows with his customary glass of whisky in hand. His back was to her of course, not that he could have seen Roxy anyway with her position high up in the tree, but the mere sight of him comforted her.

Roxy knew that her family had no idea about the attack on Kingsman. The agency records and personnel were secret, the police would have her down as a Jane Doe and her family were unaware of Kingsman’s true locations. Furthermore, she knew instinctively that her family would not be sticking to their normal routine if they thought she was dead. 

She knew she was good at the cold, hard analysis that had let her survive so far since Kingsman had been destroyed. She knew Eggsy and Merlin were alive but had no way of locating or reaching them without Kingsman’s resources. For now, she’d have to sit tight and wait for events to roll out, either exposing her surviving comrades or waiting for the attackers to try and find her again. She’d be ready for either.

Visiting the Morton estate had been a risk but a calculated one. She’d utilised all the tradecraft she knew to cover her tracks in arriving and staying undetected. One part of her mind was still chiding herself for coming here and potentially risking her family but she had to see them, she needed the mental boost of home to steel her for the trials to come. Simply sitting in the tree, gazing down at her family in the living room gave her an odd sense of peace, one that she was reluctant to let go of. She stayed for half an hour before climbing back down the tree. 

When she reached the final branch, she jumped off gracefully and landed in a barrel roll so she could land away from the view of the French windows. She took a brief look back at the window, finding nobody had spotted her. The view was much clearer at ground level. She saw not just her father but also her mother, with her soft, kindly face, and two of her brothers, Henry and Alex, all four of them playing bridge. She smiled fondly whilst also feeling a pang of sadness in her heart. She so wished to be able to walk in and join them but she couldn’t, she had to move on. 

Roxy left the grounds of the estate and went back to her car, hidden away for security reasons. As she drove back to London, her thoughts turned back to how she might be able to find Eggsy and Merlin, frustrated as she couldn’t work out how. The memories of being left for last as a child came back briefly, furthering her frustration. However, like many things in life, fate would quickly intercede in the oddest of ways. Roxy’s first clue at how to find Eggsy and Merlin came out of nowhere, literally.

Roxy had been forced to slam the brakes on her car when someone ran out into the road suddenly. “Idiot!” she called out, glaring at the pedestrian only to see they were in distress and with a face that was almost blue when they turned to face her. Thin veins had run across their face and remainder of their skin.

“Help me!” the person, a young woman, cried out as she knocked on the car window.

Roxy lowered it, noticing the hippie-esque attire the woman was dressed in. It dawned on her then that Glastonbury was taking place nearby, an event she’d entirely missed thinking about given all that had happened to her recently. Drugs was her first thought, either that or a tie-dye job gone wrong.

“Just what happened to you?” Roxy questioned, examining the blue, veiny skin with hesitant curiosity. Her gut told her this would be something of great interest. 


End file.
